Dearest Santana
by NayaFan
Summary: Greys and Glee crossover. Calzona, Brittana, Faberry. Extremely AU. It's time for Santana to begin her new life with her mistress. Sexual scenes. Light BDSM, ageplay, DD...little bit of everything. Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters. It all belongs to Fox and RIB. Any characters you do not recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Extremely AU. Greys and Glee crossover. Calzona, Brittana, Faberry. Rated M. **_

_**Warnings: Sexual scenes. Light BDSM, ageplay, DD...little bit of everything.**_

_**I know people are going to complain about me starting another story, but I decided I wanted to get this posted as I've had this idea for quite a while.**_

_**R&R please.**_

**Chapter 1**

Santana can't quite believe what she is seeing. This can't be right. There's no way it's right. The open envelope lays on her bed, its contents scattered around on top of the comforter. The envelope had arrived an hour ago, bringing an important message from her mistress. A well known lady from the online BDSM blogs. The orders inside the envelope, along with the plane ticket, instils nerves deep into her soul. Excitement rushes through her veins, but she still can't quite believe it. Paris. Her mistress wants her to go to Paris. Yep, Paris! Santana had known that her mysterious mistress had homes all over the world, but Santana had only ever been to her LA and New York homes. This time, not only is she going to Paris, but she is being rewarded for completing her training.

"That's one hell of a gift," Santana mutters to herself as she opens the accompanying note, her eyes bugging out of her head as she reads it. She feels almost giddy with excitement, and can't wait to go. Paris with her mistress, and her mistress' friends. Studying the ticket, Santana notes that she will arrive in Paris one week before her twenty second birthday and she grins. Her mistress had completely thought this out.

_My dearest Santana,_

_I hope this package reaches you in time. It is time for you to join us on a more permanent basis. You may notice that you will be taking three flights to reach me instead of the required two that most people would aim to take. This has been planned not to save money, but to ensure you and our other other guests arrive together. You will meet two other submissives when you arrive in New York, and one more in London. I hope the four of you take the opportunity to get to know each other as you will be spending a lot of time with each other._

_Ensure you are at the airport with time to spare. I will be most unimpressed if you miss your flight._

_See you soon._

_All my love, Mistress A._

Santana's pulse quickens as she reads the note for the second time, a shiver running down her spine as she makes a mental note to be at LAX three hours early if necessary. She had known this day would come, but it has arrived much quicker than she expected. Her mistress and her wife must be impressed with her progress. Santana glances at the clock and realises she is late for work. She smiles. Finally, she gets to leave the job she hates so much.

0-00-0

Santana takes a step back and folds her arms across her chest, a deep frown settling on her features as she stares at her suitcase. There's no way it's going to close, but she really doesn't want to take anything out. She knows her mistress will buy her new clothes, but Santana would still prefer to arrive with as much as her own clothes as possible. She sighs, checking her watch. She has thirty minutes until she absolutely has to leave. So much for being early. Carl, the driver her mistress always uses while in LA, has been sitting in her kitchen for close to an hour and Santana hopes this doesn't get back to her mistress. Her lack of organisational skills have gotten Santana into trouble many times in the past.

"Are you gonna eat this cake?" Santana smiles fondly when she hears Carl's booming voice.

"Have at it, Carl!" Santana looks back down at her overflowing suitcase and sighs. No matter the destination, packing sucks. She steps forward and pulls out a couple pairs of jeans and dumps them on the floor, a pout on her lips. She sighs again. What is she doing? She's going to the fashion capital of the world, and she's worrying about a few pairs of old jeans? Santana throws the discarded jeans another glance before she slams her case closed, zipping it with determination. Santana pulls the case onto its wheels and pulls it out of her bedroom, finding Carl in front of her tv with some cake. The man looks up, surprised to see that Santana is ready, and stands up. "Don't worry," Santana waves him off when he goes to take the plate to the kitchen. "My roommate will take care of it."

"Alright, miss Lopez," Carl smiles, placing the plate on the coffee table. "Although, I shouldn't be encouraging lazy behaviour. Ms Robbins wouldn't like that."

"I'll remember to be less lazy in future," Santana smirks. Carl gives her an approving nod, and takes her suitcase.

"I'll wait in the car, miss Lopez. It's best to leave now in case we hit some traffic," Carl states. Santana nods,

"I'll be right there."

"Yes, ma'am." Santana watches him leave her apartment and smiles softly. She looks around at the apartment that she had called home for the last eighteen months. She loves this apartment. Sure, she hates her roommate, but Santana is definitely going to miss this apartment. Santana wonders what these other girls will be like, the girls she'll be joining in Paris, and she hopes she'll get along with them. Her mistress wouldn't be at all happy with Santana if she spent all of her time fighting with the others. A shiver runs down her spine as she thinks about seeing her mistress again, and thinks about how her life will be from now on.

"Finally," Santana murmurs to herself. Finally, she gets to join her.

_**To be continued... Just a teaser chapter to start things off. I'm looking forward to this one. **_


	2. Chapter 2

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you so much for the great response for the first chapter. Absolutely made my day! I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations!**_

_**R&R please.**_

**Chapter 2**

Santana grumbles under her breath as a European tourist accidentally slams his hand luggage into her hip. Seven times...he had done that seven damn times. She's on her way to her third, and final, flight, and Santana is way over this travelling shtick. She's now just desperate to get to Paris. She had thought that her journey would be peaceful thanks to her mistress buying first class tickets, but she had forgotten about the nightmare of rushing for a connecting flight. Thanks to the first flight landing a little later than planned, she's now cutting it a little close for her second one. Santana sighs and checks her boarding pass, thanking god that her departure gate is pretty close.

After what seems like forever, but in reality is only a few moments, Santana finds her gate and is able to escape from the tourist that can't control his luggage. Santana sighs as she stands on her tiptoes, attempting to see passed the crowd of people that are milling around. She spots one girl sitting on her own, and decides to take a chance. The closer Santana gets to the girl, the more she realises how gorgeous she is. Like, really gorgeous. Santana's gaze is drawn to the long legs that are stretched out in front of the girl, and the piercing blue eyes that glance in her direction. She swallows, unnerved. Approaching the girl, Santana awkwardly clears her throat. The owner of the long legs and stunning eyes looks up at her with a kind smile.

"Hey, uh... are you Brittany?" Santana asks awkwardly, a goofy grin appearing on her lips when the pretty blonde girl smiles at her.

"Yeah! Hi! Who are you?" Brittany asks with too much enthusiasm. Santana didn't think it was possible for anyone to look so happily while travelling.

"I'm Santana." Santana thrusts her hand out for Brittany to shake, stiffening slightly when Brittany opts for a hug instead.

"Oh! You're Ms Robbins' girl," Brittany smiles. She speaks really highly of you." Santana's heart soars,

"she does?!"

"Yeah! I mean, not to me, but I've overheard her talking to mistress Callie about you," Brittany states. The blush that paints her face tells Santana that Brittany had been eavesdropping. Brittany falls into an embarrassed silence for a moment, before looking around with a frown. "Hey, have you seen the others. They were on your flight, right?" Brittany asks, craning her head to look around the crowd at the departure gate.

"I think so," Santana shrugs. "I didn't see them, though. At least, I don't think so," she adds, remembering she has no idea what they look like.

"Strange. Rachel would have made sure she found you and introduced herself," Brittany notes, frowning. "She's very forward."

"You already know her?" Santana asks, surprised.

"Yeah," Brittany nods. "You're the only newbie," she teasingly adds. "I hope they aren't gonna miss this flight, that would get them into a ton of trouble."

"I don't think they were on my flight," Santana murmurs, thinking back. "First class was pretty full, though, and I slept most of the way."

"Aw, yeah...there's not much else you can do on that long flight," Brittany says sympathetically. "I had to do it a couple of days ago. No amount of movies can distract you from your numb ass and the cramp in your legs."

"How come you came a couple of days earlier?" Santana asks.

"I had some business to take care of," Brittany winks, "I've been sworn to secrecy. Oh!" Brittany points, "there they are!" Santana follows Brittany's finger with her eyes, her gaze landing on two young women quickly walking towards the gaze. One blonde, and one brunette. The taller woman, the blonde one, looks irritated with her smaller counterpart and, Santana notices, the smaller one looks pretty nervous about it.

"Sorry, Britt," the blonde one grumbles as they stop beside Brittany and Santana. "Rachel forgot her passport, we had to take a flight that was an hour later." Enquiring hazel eyes land on Santana, "hi, I'm Quinn."

"Santana," Santana smiles, shaking Quinn's hand.

"It's nice to meet you, I'm sorry that we left you on your own on the flight," Quinn apologises. "I hope you found Brittany quickly and weren't on your own even longer."

"Nah, the flight here was delayed," Santana states, "I haven't been here that much longer than you have." She turns to Rachel, "are you're Rachel, right?" Santana holds out her hand, smiling when Rachel shakes it.

"It's nice to meet you," Rachel murmurs, her eyes downcast. Santana is confused, but she manages to hide it. Brittany had said this girl was forward, but Rachel seems quiet, and shy, and nervous. She glances over at Brittany and meets her ice blue gaze, silently questioning her. Brittany subtly shakes her head and the message is clear; not now. Santana takes the hint, and doesn't ask any questions. The obvious tension between Quinn and Rachel makes her feel uncomfortable, but Brittany seems used to it.

"Don't you just love all the accents?" Brittany asks, attempting to lighten the mood. "I love Londoners," she adds with a grin. Santana smiles, nodding. If Brittany is put out by the lack of response from the others, she doesn't show it. Santana feels awkward and uncomfortable, and avoids looking at Quinn and Rachel. She's thrilled when their flight is called for boarding, first class passengers first. Following Brittany, Santana pulls out her boarding pass and her passport and hands it over to an overly happy man.

"Have a nice flight, ma'am."

"Thanks," Santana murmurs. She follows Brittany down the walkway, feeling a surge of excitement as they board the plane. Finally. One short flight, and they'll be in Paris.

0-00-0

Santana leans back in her seat and nurses the cup of coffee that she had been given a few moments ago. She watches as Quinn leads Rachel along the aisle of first class, leading her into the furthest away bathroom and locking the door. A smirk pulls at the corner of her mouth, it doesn't take a genius to work out when people are joining the mile high club. The air hostess had seen them go on but, instead of putting a stop to it, she moves away. It's almost as though she's giving the couple some privacy. That's weird. Santana's brow furrows, she had thought it was against the rules.

"Ms Robbins and Ms Torres use this airline a lot," Brittany murmurs, as though reading Santana's mind. "They are valued customers and give a lot of money to the company. People tend to look the other way when their money is involved," Brittany explains.

"Wow, those two must be pretty happy about that," Santana states lightly. Brittany raises her brow and smirks,

"I doubt Rachel is very happy right now," she remarks. She notices Santana's confused expression, and smiles at how cute she is. "Quinn and Rachel are dealing with their issues." Santana's confused frown deepens. "They're not having sex in there," Brittany continues, "Rachel messed up, so Quinn is dealing with it." Santana still doesn't get it. Brittany lowers her voice, "she's spanking her."

"Because she forgot her passport?"

"Rachel is often forgetful, and not at all organised," Brittany explains. "Quinn deals with her transgressions to help keep her on the straight and narrow."

"Wait," Santana frowns, "in my letter, it said that I was meeting three other submissives."

"We are Ms Robbins and Ms Torres' submissives," Brittany states lowly, "but Quinn is a switch, she likes to be in charge, too. If you know what I mean..." Realisation floods Santana features. "Just like Ms Torres."

"But if Rachel isn't enjoying it..." Santana trails off, and Brittany nods knowingly.

"It's not play, it's punishment. Ms Robbins will teach you everything you need to know," Brittany murmurs. "You'll learn that there's more to our lives with them than you think," she adds.

"What do you mean?" Santana asks, confused again. Brittany smirks,

"have you been mama's girl yet?" she slyly asks.

"No," Santana frowns.

"You still have a lot to learn," Brittany tells her. "There's more to our mistresses than just dominating you in bed, but that's not for me to explain."

"Seriously?" Santana stares at Brittany in amusement. "You told me all of that, but now it's not your place to say it?" Brittany raises an eyebrow, studying Santana for a moment before speaking calmly,

"I told you everything I'm allowed to tell you. Quinn and Rachel have no qualms about people knowing about their relationship," Brittany explains. "There are things I'm allowed to tell you, and I've told you, and there are things I'm not allowed to tell you. Ms Robbins and Ms Torres gave me very strict instructions, there are things about _myself_ that I'm not allowed to tell you right now. What I will you," Brittany pauses, "is that you need to be very careful about how you speak to people. A certain few people in particular." A chill runs down Santana's back. Brittany is pissed at her, and the flash of anger in those baby blue eyes both arouse her and make her nervous.

"I'm sorry," Santana murmurs, suddenly unsure of herself. "I was messing around...mostly," she adds. "I'm nervous, alright? I didn't mean to offend you." Santana mentally curses herself, hating that she has gotten Brittany mad at her. Brittany's features soften.

"Don't worry about it," Brittany states. "I remember how nervous I was when I first joined them. Just be careful because, like I said, I'm not allowed to tell you everything, and I wouldn't want you to talk yourself into any kind of trouble." The acceptance of Santana's apology is genuine, but Santana still feels a little uneasy. Santana looks down at her cold coffee, and chews on her bottom lip. Her mistress had warned her in the past that her mouth was good for getting her into trouble, and it had. Brittany excuses herself and makes her way to the other bathroom, leaving Santana on her own. Santana sighs.

"Good job, Santana," she sarcastically mutters to herself. "Piss off the hot girl who seems to actually like you, why don't you?" She leans back in her seat, watching as Quinn slips out of the bathroom, leaving Rachel in there.

"We should be landing soon," Quinn tells her as she sits back down, looking much less irritated than she did earlier. "Thank god, huh? It's been a long day." Quinn glances at Santana and smirks, "although it looks like it'll be even longer for you," she notes. "It sucks when Britt is mad at you." Quinn smiles before picking up the magazine she had abandoned earlier, flipping to the correct page. Santana gapes at her. How the hell did she know? So far, these women seem nice, but they make her feel nervous as hell. Santana looks up when the bathroom door opens again, Rachel demurely walking out. She walks up the aisle and stops in front of Santana, her brown eyes red rimmed and swollen.

"I apologise for any inconvenience my forgetfulness caused," Rachel murmurs. Santana meets her gaze and immediately feels bad for her, she knows how it feels to have an ass that's red and sore.

"Don't worry about it," Santana kindly states. "We're good," she shrugs. Rachel smiles at her, seemingly relieved, but Santana doubts this will be the hardest apology Rachel has to make today. She watches as Rachel makes her way back to her seat next to Quinn, sitting down next to her girlfriend and snuggling into her side. Quinn immediately puts her arm around Rachel and places a kiss into her hair, murmuring soothingly to her. Santana looks away. She feels like she's intruding on a special, private moment. She puts her earphones in, blocking out Rachel and Quinn's hushed conversation. There's no tension between them anymore, and Santana feels jealous of her intimate relationship. She wishes she had that extra person, too.

0-00-0

Santana slides into the back of the black limo and lets out a low whistle. While she has never struggled for money, she had never considered herself rich, and today she has travelled first class on three flights and is now riding in a limo. It's already a huge change for her. Rachel slides in next to her and lets out a low whimper when her ass connects with the seat, a look of anguish crossing her pretty features. Quinn, while sympathetic as she sits down next to Rachel, also wears a look of self righteousness. Rachel had deserved it. Santana glances across at Brittany, who is sitting on the opposite side, and immediately lowers her gaze when she notices Brittany looking back at her. She's not exactly sure why, but Santana feels a small sense of panic whenever she meets Brittany's eyes, and it makes her feel extremely nervous.

"Don't worry, we'll be there soon," Quinn states, knowing that Santana will feel a lot better once they're at their mistresses' mansion. It was the same for her, but that was a couple of years ago.

"Not much will happen tonight, anyway," Brittany interjects. "It's late. We'll probably just have some dinner and then crash. Ms Robbins will want you to be well rested," she adds with a sly smirk. Santana blushes lightly, and her stomach lurches. She doesn't know what to make of Brittany anymore, there seems to be much more about the blonde than meets the eye and Santana is starting to think that Brittany is more than just a submissive to Ms Torres and Ms Robbins. She knows she is missing something, but she can't work it out. There's an air of smugness around Brittany that hadn't been there when they first met. In fact, Santana has only really noticed it since she had upset Brittany on the plane.

"Will they be there?" Santana quietly asks, her gaze trained on the floor of the limo. She hears Rachel pointedly clear her throat, and she looks up. Rachel makes a big deal of sliding her gaze across to Brittany. Santana, taking the hint, looks over at Brittany and is surprised to see irritation in the blue eyes of the woman that intrigues her so much.

"You should really make eye contact when you speak to people," Brittany tells her firmly. "It's a sign of respect, and it's rude not to. You'll learn that respect is very important in our household." Santana is taken aback. Without even meaning to, she has pissed Brittany off twice in just a few short hours. Brittany unnerves her. She manages to make her feel like a misbehaving teenager, and she scolds her like one, too.

"I'm sorry," Santana murmurs, ensuring that she does not break eye contact with Brittany, even though the icy glare causes the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. "I was just wondering if Ms Robbins and Ms Torres would be at home when we arrived?" Santana asks politely. Brittany's eyes narrow momentarily and Santana feels a tingle between her legs as the other woman stares her down.

"I'm not sure," Brittany finally responds. "They have meetings this evening, but I know they were hoping to be done by the time we got there," she adds, eyeing Santana carefully. She smirks, "you can look away now if you want to," Brittany states, light amusement in her tone. Santana looks away, flustered and embarrassed. Usually, there's only one person who can make her feel like this. Her mistress. Santana feels hot, in more way than one, and she can't bring herself to look at the others.

"I hope we're still in the same bedroom," she hears Rachel murmurs. "Especially now that we're here permanently," she adds. "I grew attached to the view from the balcony."

"It's our bedroom, Rach," Quinn responds softly. "It's not a hotel, we don't get switched around, babe." Santana hears Brittany sigh, and she chances a look at her. She discreetly watches as Brittany gazes out of the window, staring in awe at her stunning profile.

"It's also rude to stare," Brittany remarks, turning to look at Santana with an unreadable expression on her face. Santana opens her mouth to argue, but snaps it closed when Brittany raises a perfectly manicured brow. Santana is now even more confused. Why is she so concerned about pleasing Brittany? She catches Quinn's gaze, and Santana swears she can see some kind of warning in her hazel eyes. Her gaze flicks to Rachel and Rachel smiles kindly in an attempt to calm Santana's nerves because, clearly, nervous Santana is kind of a mess. Santana weakly returns the smile, her gaze questioning, but Rachel merely shakes her head. The limo slows down and Santana turns to look out of the window as they pass through huge iron gates. Her forehead presses against the window, and her breath fogs up at the glass as she desperately tries to catch a glimpse of the house. Her head lurches forward as the window suddenly slides down. She turns to look at an amused Brittany, noticing the woman's finger on the button.

"Thanks," Santana murmurs before turning back. Even though the window is now open, Santana does not stick her head out of it. She's desperate to see it, but she has a feeling that Brittany is trying to embarrass her, and she has no intention of sticking her head out of the window like a dog. She isn't at all surprised when Brittany pushes the button and rolls the window back up again. One thing is for sure, Brittany is extremely perceptive. Santana waits impatiently as the car rolls across the gravel of the driveway.

"Finally," Quinn mutters. "I really need to pee," she adds, all but jumping out of the limo as soon as it rolls to a stop. Rachel rolls her eyes and follows her girlfriend out. Santana swallows thickly, feeling as if there is a whirlpool in her stomach. She watches as Brittany gracefully slides out of the car, her breath hitching as she realises she now has to get out and begin her new life. She doesn't regret making this decision, but she just needs a moment. Santana can see Brittany standing outside, waiting for her, and she's thankful that Brittany doesn't rush her. Taking a few deep breaths, Santana slides along the leather seat and slowly gets out of the limo, shivering in the cold night air. Her jaw drops. She had known the house would be impressive, but she wasn't expecting _this._

"Nice place to call home, huh?" Santana glances at Brittany, nodding dumbly. She looks up at the three story mansion, not quite believing that she will be living here from now on. "Of course, this is just one of your homes," Brittany adds. "Wait until you see the one in Miami." Santana follows Brittany up the stone steps of the mansion and steps inside. She looks around the entrance hall, admiring the gleaming floors and the marble staircase. Santana looks around wildly when she hears the echoes of a conversation at the top of the staircase, her heart thumping erratically against her ribcage as she realises that she recognises one of the voices.

"She's here," Santana breathes out. She turns to look at Brittany, but is surprised to see that she's alone in the grand entrance hall. Santana hears the loud stacatto of heels and her head whips around. There, on the staircase, is the one person she has been dying to see since she received the letter. Her mistress. She watches as Arizona Robbins almost glides down the remaining steps, feeling her warm hand on her cheek a moment later. The warm smile on her mistress' face causes her heart to flutter.

"My dearest Santana."

_**To be continued...Next chapter will be up by no later than Wednesday. Please review.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters. It all belongs to Fox and RIB. Any characters you do not recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you for all of the great reviews for the first two chapters, I really appreciate them.**_

_**Anyone who follows me on tumblr will be aware of the reasons behind the delay for this chapter. I'm hoping things will be better/nicer from now on and I plan on doing my best to update this at least once a week.**_

_**R&R please.**_

**Chapter 3**

Santana nuzzles Arizona's hand with her cheek, her eyes closed and a smile on her face. She allows herself to be drawn into her mistress' arms, her heart soaring at the loving touch. She relishes the familiar scent of Arizona's perfume and borrows deeper into her arms. This reunion is everything she had hoped it would be. Arizona pulls back and Santana whimpers at the loss of contact, relieved when her mistress takes her hand into her own. Arizona leads her through a door on the left hand side of the entrance hall, the warmth of the small room enveloping Santana. Santana looks around the room, admiring the large oak desk and the roaring fire in the fireplace.

"I'm so pleased that you are here," Arizona finally speaks. "I've waited a long time to bring you here to join us," she adds softly. Santana wants to ask why she didn't just bring her here sooner, but she doesn't. She knows her mistress has her reasons, and will share them if she deems it necessary. "Our chef has made you and the others a late dinner but, first, I have something for you," Arizona tells her. Santana smiles sweetly, watching as her mistress crosses the room and opens a drawer in the desk. She pulls out a small, velvet case and places it on top of the desk. "Come here, dearest." Santana immediately does as she is told, standing in front of Arizona with her hands clasped in front of her. "How were your flights?"

"They were good, mistress," Santana states. "Thank you for paying for first class." Arizona smiles, pleased with Santana's manners.

"Money is no object when it comes to you," Arizona responds. "How was it with the other girls? Did you get along with them?"

"Yes, mistress. Although, I think I upset Brittany," Santana says honestly.

"I heard," Arizona tells her. "I appreciate your honesty. I know you have many questions, all they will all be answered in due time," Arizona states firmly. "I will decide when the time is right."

"Yes, mistress," Santana respectfully responds. Arizona nods, pleased. She picks up the small box from the varnished table and opens it. She pulls out a delicate silver ring. Her own name is inscribed on the inside and she gently slides it onto Santana's index finger on her right hand. Santana inspects it, not missing the 'A' that is lightly drawn on the outside. "It's beautiful, mistress," Santana breathes, "thank you."

"You will wear this at all times," Arizona instructs her. "The only time I will accept your finger being bare is in the shower, or using the gym facilities upstairs. It's probably for the best that you take it off at these allowed times, the price you will pay for losing it will be very steep," she warns, her piercing blue eyes boring into Santana's brown ones. Santana's stomach lurches, and she nods, unable to speak. "I have some business to finish taking care of tonight so I will show you to the dining room, and Brittany will give you a tour of the house after you've had some food. Don't stay up too late, I have plans for you in the morning."

"I won't, mistress," Santana states, barely hiding her smile. Arizona cups her cheek again and leans forward, softly kissing Santana's forehead.

"Try and behave yourself until then," Arizona murmurs, Santana easily spotting the twinkle in her blue eyes. Arizona places her hand on Santana's lower back and leads her back out to the entrance hall, the small touch driving Santana crazy. She can't wait until tomorrow. Arizona walks her along a beautifully decorated hallway and stops outside the door. "Be good." With that, Arizona leaves. Santana stares wistfully after her mistress, her gaze landing on Arizona's ass. It looks great in those tight pants. "Go eat," Arizona calls out as she turns the corner and Santana's eyes widen ever so slightly. Busted. Santana opens the door to the dining room, stopping short when she sees someone she doesn't expect.

"Oh...hey," Santana stutters. Callie stands up from her place at the end of the long dining table.

"Is that how you're supposed to address me?" Callie questions her, her dark eyes flashing. Callie beckons her forward and Santana steps forward, her heart pounding. She stands in front of Callie, noticing just how much the woman towers over her, her heels adding to her already substantial height. "How do you address me?"

"Ms Torres," Santana murmurs, making nervous eye contact with her mistress' wife. Callie studies her seriously for a moment, she likes that she makes Santana nervous.

"Better. Sit down," Callie states after a moment, gesturing to the seat opposite Brittany.

"Yes, ma'am." Santana quickly sits down, noticing Brittany's smug gaze. The gaze clearly says _I told you so_. Santana looks away, choosing to stare down at her plate instead.

"Now that everyone is here, let's eat," Callie states. Santana keeps her gaze fixed on her food as she eats, staying silent even as Brittany and Quinn casually chat, Rachel interjecting every so often. She doesn't understand how they can be so calm around Callie, she can't even look at the woman without feeling as though her stomach is going to fall out of her ass. Sure, her mistress can intimidate her at times, but Santana has seen her softer side. She hasn't even seen Callie smile before, and she had learned the hard way that neither woman liked people to ask why they didn't take each others' names.

"So, Santana, you're from Los Angeles?" Rachel questions, feeling bad for Santana and hoping she can make her feel more comfortable.

"Uh I lived there for a couple of years, I'm originally from Ohio," Santana tells her, offering Rachel a grateful smile.

"Oh, Brittany is from Ohio, too," Rachel states. "Where about in Ohio?"

"Lima, my parents still live there."

"My grandparents live in Lima," Brittany informs her, "I was raised in Akron," she adds and Santana nods, smiling awkwardly at her. Rachel rolls her eyes, why do some people need to make it so hard just to engage in a conversation with each other. Callie watches them all with interest, intrigued to see how they interact with Santana. She doesn't miss that Santana seems nervous around Brittany, and she can understand why. She _should_ be nervous around Brittany. Rachel and Quinn are the first to ask permission to leave and Callie grants it. She knows they must be tired, and also knows they are going to have a really long day tomorrow. They don't know that yet, though. Callie glances at Santana, seeing that she has finished eating, and stands up.

"Brittany, let's give Santana the grand tour, shall we?" Santana looks up in surprise, she hadn't realised that Ms Torres would be coming with them. Both of these women make her nervous, and she's not sure how she will keep her cool if she has to be around both of them, with no human buffers, for much longer.

"Yes, ma'am." Brittany stands up and straightens out her t'shirt, smoothing over a few wrinkles, "you ready?" she asks Santana. Santana nods, not trusting herself to speak. Santana follows Brittany and Callie out of the dining room, making sure to stay behind Callie like she was taught so long ago. She tries not to look, but her gaze slowly lifts to land Callie's shapely ass. A small, sharp pain in her upper arm causes her to jump, and she shifts her gaze to Brittany. Brittany shakes her head, her blue eyes serious. Santana wants to be mad at Brittany, but she knows that Brittany is only helping her. If she had been caught by Callie, it would not have bode well for her own ass.

"This room," Callie stops outside the room Santana had been inside earlier, "is Ms Robbins' office. You do not go in there without explicit permission," Callie states sternly. "The room next door," she gestures to the next room, "is my office. The same rules apply." Santana nods, her pulse a lot faster than it usually is. "I'm sure you can imagine what will happen to you if you are ever found in these rooms without permission," Callie remarks.

"Yes, ma'am. I can," Santana nods, her voice almost a whisper.

"If your imagination fails you, you can always ask Rachel," Callie tells her. Santana is starting to realise that she won't be spoon fed all of the information she'd like to learn. It's becoming clear to her that she's gonna have to earn it. All this uncertainty and nervousness reminds her of her training. A light bulb goes off in her brain... This is their intention, it's supposed to feel like that. Santana stays behind Callie as she is shown around the bottom floor of the mansion. It's insane to her. She's seen a gym, a home movie theatre, a pool, and a games room...and she's only been on one floor so far. Her mistress and her wife have exquisite taste, and Santana is convinced that even just a doorknob in one of the rooms costs more than her apartment.

"Will we be taking her to the top floor, ma'am?" Santana hears Brittany quietly ask.

"No. That's not our place. Ms Robbins will show her tomorrow," Callie replies softly, unaware that Santana can still hear her.

"But, ma'am...you're in a position of authority," Brittany pushes. "Doesn't that mean..."

"Brittany," Callie cuts Brittany off, "Ms Robbins brought her hear, she is Ms Robbins' submissive. It is her place to introduce her to the top floor."

"Good evening." Santana can't stop her mouth from splitting into a wide smile when her mistress exits a room, joining them in the long hallway. There is no smile on Arizona's face, though. Her beautiful features are sober, and her brilliant blue eyes are trained on Callie and she doesn't look pleased. Santana is surprised to notice that Callie looks nervous, and the small insight into their relationship intrigues her. "If I can hear you inside the lounge, then I'm sure Santana could hear everything, too." Arizona turns her gaze to Santana, "am I right?"

"Yes, mistress," Santana murmurs, a light blush colouring her cheeks. She can feel Brittany watching her as well, but she doesn't meet her gaze. Santana watches as Arizona and Callie seem to have a silent conversation, confused and intrigued at the same time.

"I think this tour is over," Arizona says after a moment. "Brittany, we have a long day tomorrow."

"Oh...yes, of course," Brittany takes the not so subtle hint, "goodnight, ma'am."

"Goodnight." Arizona's tone is clipped, and Santana feels a little smug as she realises that her mistress is upset with Brittany. Santana watches as Brittany leaves, suddenly feeling bad for her. If Brittany were a puppy, her tail would be between her legs. Santana would hate it if Arizona dismissed her in such a cold manner. She looks back at the other women to realise she is being watched by her mistress and her wife, and Santana's breath catches in her throat. Is she in trouble, too? God, she hopes not.

"Santana?"

"Yes, mistress?" Santana's pulse quickens, Arizona's gaze turning her legs to jello.

"Perhaps you could discover the rest of the house in your own time," Arizona suggest. "You will, after all, be here for a long time. I will show you to your bedroom," she adds. The look Arizona sends Callie makes the hairs on the back of Santana's neck stand up, and her intrigue grows. She had always seen Callie as a stern figure of authority who always bore a look of confidence, but she is convinced that she saw a flash of unease in Callie's eyes. Arizona takes Santana's hand into her own and guides her back to the grand marble staircase. "I apologise for that, dearest. You should not have to hear people discussing you while you are in their vicinity," Arizona apologises, leading Santana up the stairs. "I know you have many questions, and not just about your own position, but now is not the time. We will discuss it in the morning."

"Yes, ma'am," Santana murmurs. She's desperate to bombard her mistress with her questions, but she knows it would not be wise to do so. Especially while her mistress is already displeased.

"I really am very happy that you're here," Arizona tells her. "I hope you will be happy with us as I have no desire for you to leave." Santana's heart swells and she smiles softly,

"I'm happy to be here, ma'am." Arizona offers her a small smile, but her eyes twinkle and Santana knows that the small smile doesn't even cover how her mistress is feeling. She's thrilled. Santana is, too. Santana is led along the hallway of the second floor, looking around in awe at the expensive paintings. She had known her mistress and her wife came from rich families, and had made some fantastic investments, but she hadn't realised just how well off she was. The more Santana sees of the mansion, the more she realises that Arizona's involvement in the BDSM world isn't financially triggered in the slightest. The money she earns from her websites and conventions must be pennies compared to what she already has. Arizona leads her to a door at the far end of the hall and pulls out a key,

"this is for you," Arizona states, handing Santana the key. "I have a spare key, and I will use it whenever I need to." There's a sparkle in Arizona's eyes, and Santana knows what her mistress is saying to her. She can, and will, use this key whenever she damn well pleases. Santana barely conceals her smirk, she likes the sound of that. "Keep this door locked when you are not in there," Arizona seriously states. "Sometimes, we end up with unfavourable guests during production." Santana's eyes widen,

"you film them here?!" she blurts out before she can stop herself. She instantly regrets it when Arizona's brow arches dangerously. "Sorry, ma'am, I just wasn't aware," Santana immediately apologises.

"I'll let that slide," Arizona nods, "this time." Her tone sends a shiver running down Santana's spine, and she knows she got lucky this time. Her mistress is loving, kind, and passionate, but she is also very, very strict. She has extremely high standards, and does not hesitate to punish anyone who refuses to meet them. Santana is aware that her next slip up, no matter how minor, will land her ass in trouble. Arizona watches Santana for a moment, her ice blue eyes boring deep in Santana's brown ones. After a moment, she nods and, despite having just given Santana a key, uses her own key to unlock Santana's bedroom door. Arizona leads her inside, and Santana's jaw drops as she gazes around the room. The cream walls and light coloured carpet makes the room look warm and homely in the lamplight, and the furniture is tasteful and subtly expensive. There's an armchair next to the lamp and a small bookshelf that matches the chest of drawers. The walk in closet is already filled with her clothes and Santana realises that this is the business that her mistress had been taking care of.

"It's beautiful, ma'am," Santana breathes out, her pulse quickening when she notices the armless, straight backed chair that sits in the corner. She knows what that is for, and it's very presence will serve as a reminder that she is not the one in charge. Santana walks into the closet, her closet, and smiles at how neatly everything has been put away. Her brow wrinkles when she notices clothes that don't belong to her. Had her mistress bought her new clothes? Santana does her best not to frown as she looks through the new clothes. She doesn't want Arizona to find her to be ungrateful, but Santana doesn't think she will ever wear these clothes. They look like they were made for an oversized child. Santana frowns, remembering something Brittany said on the plane. She turns to her mistress, her dark eyes questioning.

"All in due time, my girl," Arizona softly states, her blue eyes twinkling. Santana frowns, confused. "Come here," Arizona murmurs, taking Santana's hand again. She leads Santana into the en-suite bathroom that Santana hasn't even noticed. Arizona bypasses the clawed foot tub and pulls Santana straight to the shower. Santana doesn't even question Arizona when the woman begins to undress her, easily telling by her tenderness that there will be no play tonight. This is just her mistress taking care of her

"Thank you, mistress," Santana states softly. Arizona looks into her eyes,

"for what?" Santana flushes lightly, a little embarrassed.

"For bringing me here," Santana murmurs. Arizona smiles, pausing her actions and gently cupping Santana's cheek in her hand.

"It is me who should be thanking you." Arizona leans forward, gently pressing her lips against Santana's. It surprises Santana, Arizona has never been shy to show affection, but she rarely kisses her on the lips. Santana leans into the kiss, revelling her mistress' soft touch and relishing her taste. The kiss ends all too soon for Santana's liking, and she whimpers at the loss of affectionate contact. Arizona unclasps Santana's bra and slides it off her arms, her finger nail lightly grazing against Santana's nipple. Santana steps forward ever so slightly,

"please, mistress," she whispers.

"Not tonight, dearest," Arizona shakes her head. Santana is unable to stop the disappointed whine that leaves her lips, and the sharp slap to her ass making her regret it. "Not tonight," Arizona repeats, her voice laced with warning. Santana lowers her gaze, silently cursing herself. She doesn't want her first night here to spent underneath her mistress' punishing hand. Santana dips her head as the rest of her clothes are shed. Arizona places her finger underneath Santana's chin, gently urging her to lift her head. Santana's pulse races under her mistress' intense gaze, her state of undress making her feel very vulnerable in the presence of her fully clothed mistress. "How do you feel?" Arizona quietly questions.

"Nervous, ma'am...vulnerable," Santana murmurs, noting that Arizona looks pleased with her answer. Arizona takes a step backwards,

"don't spend too much time in the shower," Arizona states, and Santana realises her mistress isn't staying. "You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, try and get some rest. I will see you in the morning. Goodnight, my dearest Santana." With that, Arizona leaves the bathroom and Santana hears her bedroom door close, hearing the lock click a moment later. She's alone, standing naked in her new bathroom. Santana smirks, she knows she is going to love it here.

0-00-0

Santana is awakened by a loud knocking at her bedroom door, and it takes her a moment to remember where she is. She gazes around the darkened room, unable to tell if the sun is up yet due to the black out curtains. She blinks heavily, attempting to wake up and wincing as another loud knock reverberates around the room. Forcing herself out of bed, Santana sleepily stumbles to the door. She unlocks the door and pulls it open, making a mental note to remember and take the key out the next time she locks it from the inside. Her mistress would not be pleased if she could not enter if she wanted to.

"Good morning." Santana blinks sleepily at Brittany, how is she so chirpy in the morning. "It's almost eleven, and Ms Robbins wanted me to bring you to the lounge on this floor," Brittany explains.

"Morning," Santana grumbles, her voice thick with sleep. "Should I change first?" she asks. Brittany's eyes sweep up and down, giving Santana a onceover. Santana doesn't miss Brittany's smirk, well aware that her pajama pants and tank top aren't exactly sexy sleep wear.

"You're fine," Brittany states. "I would like to apologise for last night," Brittany adds, somewhat begrudgingly. "I should not have tried to discuss anything about your position here whilst you were standing there." Santana feels a little smug, it's not hard to notice that Brittany doesn't like having to do this.

"It's okay," she shrugs. She plays it cool, despite her desire to know everything, because Santana knows that Brittany likes her desperation. It's obvious.

"Let's go," Brittany gestures along the hall. She did it, she apologised, she doesn't want to drag it out. Brittany starts walking and Santana grabs the key, quickly locking the door and rushing to catch up with the other woman. She feels ridiculously underdressed. Everything about this house is grand and fancy, and it makes her feel small.

"What's upstairs?" Santana timidly asks as she catches up with Brittany.

"I think you're aware that I'm not allowed to tell you that," Brittany responds sharply, sending Santana's eyebrows into her hairline. "Sorry," Brittany mutters.

"Why does it feel like you hate me?" Santana demands, and Brittany stops short, causing Santana to almost walk into her.

"I don't hate you," Brittany truthfully responds. Santana frowns,

"then why do you always talk to me like crap?" Santana asks, watching as Brittany's gaze darkens.

"Watch your mouth," Brittany sternly tells her. "You would do well to remember what I told you yesterday. Respect is a big deal in this house, and you ought to respect me. You'll learn soon enough." Brittany holds her gaze for a moment, and Santana feels nervous. Why does she feel like she's screwed up? Why is there an awful feeling of fearful anticipation lingering in the air.

"I don't understand what's happening here," Santana murmurs, her brow furrowed. Brittany smirks,

"you will. All in due time." Santana frowns, there's that saying again. All in due time. "Let's go, everyone is waiting for you." Brittany continues walking and Santana trails after her, more confused than ever. She's desperate to find out everything that she can but, at the same time, nervous anxiety lingers in her chest. It's almost as though her subconscious is telling her not to rush anything...to let everything come out when it is supposed to. Maybe, she isn't going to like everything that she learns. Brittany leads her into the lounge and Santana's eyes almost fall out of her head. There, in the centre of the room, is Rachel. Naked, and draped over the over the back of the red, overstuffed sofa.

"Santana." The sharp call of her name rips Santana from her haze, and her gaze snaps across to her mistress. Arizona is leaning against the wall, facing the sofa. Arizona doesn't speak again, merely pointing to the spot beside her and Santana rushes to comply. As she walks further into the room, she notices Quinn and Callie standing beside Rachel. Standing next to her mistress, Santana clasps her hands in front of her and turns her attention to Callie when she notices the older woman looking at her.

"Rachel's forgetfulness meant that she and Quinn missed their flight," Callie begins. "In turn, she inconvenienced us all in some way. Therefor, everyone is to be present during her punishment," Callie explains. "There will be no talking or interruption of any kind," she adds, and Santana suddenly wishes she had been given an opportunity to visit the bathroom before she was brought here. "Santana, you missed the beginning of the show...I thought Brittany would have brought you here quickly to ensure you didn't miss anything," Callie's gaze flickers to Brittany, "but she didn't." Santana glances at Brittany as the blonde moves to stand beside her, easily spotting the flash of anger in Brittany's eyes. She blames Santana. Santana feels a little bad, she had caused both of them to arrive here later than Ms Torres wanted.

"I apologise, ma'am," Brittany respectfully states, and Santana isn't sure if she should apologise or not. Callie's satisfied nod tells her that she had only expected one from Brittany. She stays silent. Santana glances at Quinn, returning the small smile that Quinn sends her. Quinn looks...satisfied. It's almost as if she is happy that Rachel is being punished, even though she had already spanked her during the flight. Maybe she is. Santana can imagine that it must be satisfying to see the person who caused you a great deal of stress and money - time was an issue and Quinn had to pay for the flight they did take - being punished would be pretty satisfying.

"Santana, you were brought in here to watch," Arizona states from beside her. "If you are not interested in watching, I'm sure I can find some other to occupy you," she adds, the threat clear in her tone of voice.

"Sorry, ma'am," Santana murmurs, looking away from Quinn and turning her attention to Rachel instead.

"It is polite to look at me when you speak to me," Arizona scolds her. Santana nervously gazes at her mistress.

"I'm sorry, mistress," Santana sincerely states. Her heart pounds, had she gone too far? Has her mistress gotten irritated with having to scold her again? Arizona nods, satisfied. Much better. Santana doesn't need to look at Brittany to know that she is wearing a smug I told you so expression. Santana turns her gaze to Rachel's ass, knowing she has missed a decent chunk of punishment by the flushed pink appearance of the smooth skin. Rachel is silent, and Santana feels for her. She knows how it feels to lay there, exposed to everyone in the room, but she doesn't know how it feels to be in this position while there are other submissives in the room.

"Rachel, I want you to count. You know what I expect to hear," Callie firmly states. Santana feels a pulsing heat between her legs as she watches Callie scold Rachel. There is no doubt that Callie is a gorgeous woman, and Santana has always had a ridiculous crush on her. Her knees weaken when Callie picks up a leather riding crop. Santana is sure that this is one of the sexiest women she has ever set eyes on. Santana feels her mistress' hand on her lower back, possessively reminding Santana that she belongs to her. Santana loves it, but it also makes her feel a little nervous. If her mistress is jealous of the appreciative attention Santana is giving Callie, her mistress will most likely decide to mark her territory. Arizona's hand slips lower, resting on her ass and Santana has to force herself to stand still as the rest of Rachel's punishment begins.

"One, mistress!" Rachel cries out as the crop kisses her ass, leaving a line of heat across her already tender ass. Santana watches, fascinated, as the line of skin glows white before turning red. She had never experienced a punishment from this side before, and the tips of her ears turn pink as she realises this is how she has been seen several times in the past. Callie trails the crop along Rachel's bare ass and Santana swallows dryly, starting to feel a little hot. Callie whips it down a second time, and Rachel bucks,

"two, mistress!" Rachel chokes out as she sucks air in through her teeth.

"Louder," Callie orders, laying down a third stroke and leaving a line of fire across Rachel's bare ass. Santana's breath hitches and she feels Arizona's hand gently squeeze her ass in silent warning.

"Three, mistress!" Santana struggles to take control of herself, and a small whimper escapes her lips. Santana freezes, relaxing slightly when Callie doesn't turn to face her. She freezes again when she feels her mistress' hand slip inside her pajama bottoms, her palm resting on Santana's bare ass. Santana tenses for a moment, unsure about what will happen next, convinced she had just earned herself a punishment. Arizona gently massages Santana's ass, her fingers lightly kneading the bare flesh. Santana relaxes, her jaw slackening ever so slightly. "Four, mistress!" Santana's eyes are still fixed on Rachel's ass, but she no longer truly sees it. She is far too focused on her own ass...and her mistress' hand. Santana holds back as content sigh, and she is convinced that she's about to start fucking purring.

"Yes, ma'am," Santana hears Brittany say from beside her, and she realises that Callie has stopped, for now. She watches as Brittany leaves the room, wondering where she is going.

"Brittany is going to get a crop for Quinn to use," Arizona explains, recognising the look of confusion on Santana's features. "I know Brittany told you that Quinn is a switch," Arizona continues. "Ms Torres is in charge of Quinn's training, so Quinn will finish Rachel's punishment, but we do not allow our submissives to use the same implements," she explains. Santana nods. That makes sense. She glances over at Quinn and notices the girl is subtly watching Arizona's hand. Their eyes meet, Quinn shooting Santana the smallest of smirks. "Eyes on Rachel," Arizona barks, catching Quinn's smirk, and Quinn immediately shifts her gaze back to her girlfriend. Santana can practically feel the possessiveness rolling off of her mistress in waves, and it causes her heart to swell.

"Tell us how you feel, Rachel," Callie loudly states. There's a small hesitation before,

"exposed, ma'am. Embarrassed, sore...regretful," Rachel murmurs, and Santana feels for her. She can only imagine the volume of humiliation Rachel is feeling, and she's amazed at Rachel's easy compliance. It's clear to her that these girls have been with her mistress and Ms Torres for a long time.

"We've worked on your forgetfulness before, haven't we?"

"Yes, ma'am," Rachel respectfully replies.

"Do you think the lesson will be remembered this time?" Callie questions, clearly enjoying herself as she runs her fingers across the heated skin of Rachel's ass.

"Yes, ma'am. I will do better in future," Rachel promises. Callie nods,

"I'm sure you will," Callie says. "Otherwise, you'll end up back in this position. I won't so lenient next time. Do you understand?" Callie slaps Rachel's bare bottom, causing Rachel to yelp.

"Yes, ma'am." Callie gazes over at Santana and Arizona, dark eyes filling with glee as she notices where her wife's hand is. Santana flushes pink when she realises she is being watched, swallowing a whimper when Arizona's hand tightens around one firm cheek. She barely even notices Brittany's return. Her whole body tingles under her mistress's simple touch. She's barely doing anything, yet Santana feels like she is burning up.

"Count," Santana hears Quinn's command and she forces herself to focus. Quinn lightly taps the new crop against her girlfriend's backside before drawing her arm back and cracking it against Rachel's tender flesh.

"One, mistress Quinn!" Santana's pupils dilate, and she swallows thickly. Quinn quickly follows the first strike with an equally hard second, and Rachel lets out a yell of pain, "two, mistress Quinn!" Arizona continues her one handed massage of Santana's ass, and Santana struggles to focus on the scene in front of her. Every nerve ending in her body feels as though it's on fire, and her breathing is shallow. Santana stares at Rachel's ass, but she can no longer hear her the connection of the crop on her ass, or her counts. Everything feels foggy. Suddenly, Arizona removes her hand from Santana's bare ass and Santana comes crashing back to earth. Disappointment flows through her at the loss of contact. She gazes pleadingly at her mistress, but Arizona shakes her head. Santana is surprised to notice that Rachel's punishment is over and that Callie and Quinn are now comforting Rachel and covering her with a blanket.

"Come with me," Arizona murmurs, placing her hand on Santana's lower back and ushering her from the room. Santana notices that Brittany is following them, and she frowns. Arizona leads them to the room at the farthest end of the hallway, her hand still firmly pressed against Santana's back. Arizona pulls out a key from her pocket with her free hand and unlocks the door. "Brittany, would you like to tell Santana the rule about this room before we go in?" Arizona phrases it as a question, but Brittany knows it's not a request, it's a command.

"We are only to enter this room when we have Ms Robbins or Ms Torres with us," Brittany dutifully recites. "No matter what," she adds seriously. Arizona nods,

"that is correct." Arizona pushes the door open and gestures for Santana to go inside first. Santana walks inside and looks around the room. It looks like a child's playroom, and there is a single person bed in the corner of the room. There is two doors on one side of the room and, at her mistress' urging, Santana steps forward to investigate. One door leads to a small en-suite bathroom, the other leads to a small living room. Santana steps into the living room, immediately noticing the small kitchenette on the far side of the wall. Santana frowns in confusion. This place is like a small apartment inside the mansion, is this where she's going to stay from now on?

"Ma'am?" Santana turns to face Arizona as she and Brittany linger in the doorway.

"Have a seat," Arizona tells her, gesturing to the sofa. Santana does as she is told, perching on the edge of the middle sofa cushion. She's confused, but there's a nagging feeling in her gut telling her that she should know what is going on. She watches as Arizona moves to sit on the coffee table in front of her, noting that Brittany stays where she is. She can't help but wonder why Brittany is there, and she so desperately wants to ask, but doesn't think her mistress will appreciate it. "You look nervous," Arizona notes, her eyes slightly narrowed as she studies Santana.

"I am, mistress," Santana murmurs, knowing that honesty is the best policy. Arizona can almost see nerves radiating from Santana and decides to put the young woman out of her misery. Crossing one leg over the other, she leans back on one hand and smiles at Santana.

"Do you remember when Brittany asked you if you had ever been mama's girl?" Arizona asks, and Santana nods. "Well I'm going to explain it to you. Have you ever heard of age-play?" Santana's brow furrows,

"yeah," she nods. "It's when adults try to relive their childhood, or do it differently or..." Santana trails off, a little embarrassed. "Yes, ma'am, I've heard of it." Arizona nods.

"We use it here," Arizona says, "as part of your training," she clarifies. "I know you thought you completed your training, but that was just the beginning." Santana nods, her brain working overtime as she processes what she is hearing. "Some people do use it to relive their childhood, some people even use it as a stress reliever," Arizona explains. "There are many reasons, but do you know why we use it?" she asks, glancing at Brittany to silently tell her to stay quiet.

"No, ma'am," Santana murmurs, intrigued and nervous at the same time.

"We use age-play to strip down our submissives," Arizona softly states, "to allow them to fully let go. We strip them down. Then, we build them back up. It's not about reliving your childhood," Arizona tells her, her blue eyes never leaving Santana's. "It's about making you vulnerable and teaching you to fully trust me. So that, even in the very back of your mind, there will never be an ounce of doubt." Arizona stops talking, giving Santana a moment to think about this, to let it sink in.

"That's what the clothes are for," Santana murmurs, mostly to herself.

She looks up, "right, ma'am?"

"Right," Arizona nods. "There will be no funny business while you're in your younger state of mind," she informs Santana, and Santana looks up in alarm. She hadn't realised it was definitely happening and, by the sounds of it, so soon. "I understand that it will be hard for you to fall into your young state of mind. Allowances will be made, of course, but if I feel you're not trying hard enough..." Arizona lets the threat hang in the air, it's not necessary for her to finish. Santana looks down at her hands, nerves causing them to shake ever so slightly.

"Today, mistress?" Santana quietly asks, her voice almost a mere whisper.

"Tomorrow," Arizona corrects, "but Brittany will be with you tonight, to help you prepare," she adds. Santana frowns, and Arizona answers her question before she can even ask it. "Brittany has been mama's girl several times. She can help you." Santana nods, but she's scared. She knows this will be one of her biggest tests to date, and she knows it will be hard. Santana is also worried about being alone with Brittany, and she can't stop wondering about what this preparation will entail.

_**To be continued... So, yeah, this story is a slow burner, but all questions will be answered within the story as it goes on. Please review.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters. It all belongs to Fox and RIB. Any characters you do not recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you so much for the feedback that has been left so far, I love hearing from you guys. No set update day for this story, but I'm aiming to update this as often as I can physically manage.**_

_**R&R please.**_

**Chapter 4**

The limo ride into the city had been completely silent, and it does nothing to quell Santana's nerves. It's only a little after two in the afternoon, but it feels much later. After everything Santana had witnessed and learned this morning, she feels more nervous than ever, but she trusts her mistress. Wholeheartedly. She and her mistress are the only ones in the back of the limo and Santana has no idea where they are going. It makes her feel slightly anxious. Arizona had noticed this, but she still doesn't tell Santana where they are going. She reaches out and takes a hold of Santana's arm, silently urging her girl to move closer to her.

"Over my lap," Arizona murmurs, sliding into the middle of the leather seat. Santana frowns, but she doesn't question her mistress. Santana awkwardly clambers over Arizona's knee, hearing her mistress chuckle softly when she almost slips on the soft leather. Santana turns her head so that her chin is resting on her arm, jerking nervously when she feels Arizona's hand on her backside. "Relax," Arizona softly instructs, rubbing her hand up and down the curves of Santana's denim clad behind. "You will, in time, learn to completely trust me," Arizona murmurs. "The rest of your training will help you with that," she adds, still rubbing Santana's ass. "When we are out in public together, my rules still apply," she states. "I am still your mistress, and disobedience will lead to a swift punishment. Do you understand, dearest?"

"Yes, ma'am," Santana immediately replies. She gasps softly when Arizona lightly spanks her behind, then continues to rub.

"You will always be looked after. I will never allow anything to happen to you," Arizona softly says. She adds a little more pressure to her hand as she rubs, spanking Santana every so often. She doesn't spank hard enough to cause any pain, just hard enough for Santana to feel it. Arizona feels Santana's body relax on her lap as she rubs, Santana letting out low moans of pleasure. The smacks interrupt the rubbing every so often, never in a particular pattern. Santana is completely at her mercy, and both of them know it. Santana is all but purring with delight. "When we get out of the limo, who is in charge?" Arizona abruptly questions, intentionally waiting until Santana is distracted. She sharply slaps Santana's bottom, encouraging her to answer more quickly.

"You are, mistress," Santana politely responds.

"That's right," Arizona nods. "So if I tell you to do something while we are out, what will you do?" Arizona pushes, her hand never stilling.

"I'll do it, ma'am." Arizona smiles softly. Her girl still has a long way to go in her training, but she is getting there. She knows that Santana had assumed her past training would be the end of it, but it's different now that Santana has joined them on a permanent basis. There's more rules, and more punishments.

"Very good, dearest," Arizona says quietly. She lifts her hand from Santana's behind, ignoring the low moan of protest, and guides Santana off of her lap. "Today will test you, but I expect your best effort," she instructs, her voice firm.

"Yes, ma'am." Santana sits back down next to her mistress and scoots closer to her. She likes being close to Arizona. It comforts her. Arizona places her hand on Santana's thigh, sensing her need to be touched. They sit in silence for the rest of the journey, each woman content to just be in the other's company. After a few moments, the limo slows and is steered into an underground parking lot. Santana glances curiously at Arizona, but Arizona merely smiles and shakes her head. Santana isn't surprised. Her mistress is clearly enjoying herself and she has her reasons, which Santana can't work out, for not telling Santana where they are. The driver opens the door and Arizona gracefully steps out of the car and holds her hand out to Santana. Santana slides out of the car, less gracefully than her mistress, and grasps Arizona's hand. Looking around, Santana notices that the tiny parking lot is empty apart from a few expensive convertibles.

"We won't be more than an hour," Arizona tells the driver, and he nods, promising to still be here. Santana gazes at him, and he winks. He's not going to give her any clues about what is going on. "Let's go, dearest." Arizona leads Santana across to an elevator and pushes the button, waiting silently for the doors to open. After a brief moment, the doors slide open and Santana is ushered inside.

"Ma'am, whe..." Santana trails off when Arizona shoots her a warning look.

"All in good time," Arizona tells her, her ice blue gaze daring Santana to argue. Santana looks down at her feet, feeling suitably chastised. Santana's stomach lurches slightly as the elevator rises to their desired floor, and the anticipation nags at her gut. There's an excitement inside her, too, but her nerves are winning the battle of attention. The elevator shudders to a halt and the doors slide open to reveal a brightly lit reception area. Santana frowns in confusion. It looks like some sort of office. Arizona tugs on Santana's hand and pulls her out of the elevator, leading her girl across to the reception desk. Arizona's heels clicks loudly on the marble floor and Santana begins to feel underdressed in her converse. Her mistress had told her to wear something comfortable, jeans and sneakers had seemed like a good idea.

"Ms Robbins, welcome back," a blonde haired young woman beams at Arizona from behind the desk.

"Good afternoon, Sarah," Arizona states politely. "Are they ready for us?" The receptionist's smile falters at the clipped question and her gaze lands on Santana. Santana feels herself blush as the young woman looks her up and down, a slight sneer on her lips. "Whenever you're ready, Sarah," Arizona snaps, her tone dripping with acidic sarcasm.

"Of course, Ms Robbins," the woman bows her head in silent apology. "I'll go find out for you." Arizona watches with disapproval as Sarah stalks away, wondering if she should tell Cassandra, the girl's mistress, about her slight attitude or not. Arizona glances at Santana and notices her questioning glance.

"Let me guess, you're wondering why you haven't heard a French accent yet," Arizona states lightly. Quinn had asked that question when she first visited here, too. Santana nods,

"Yes, ma'am." Arizona smiles, amused.

"The owner of this company is American, and she brought most of her staff with her when she expanded the business," Arizona explains. "She knows what she likes, and she likes people that know what they are doing. It's only on very rare occasions that she will train someone up. She prefers experienced people, both in her professional and personal lives." Arizona watches as Santana takes this information on board, giving her a moment to process before continuing,

"I'm telling you this because it will be important for you to understand how Cassandra July's mind works," Arizona states. "She runs a tight ship and whenever we spend any time with her, she will be watching your every move," Arizona tells her seriously. "When we go through those doors," Arizona gestures to the double doors Sarah had gone through, "you will only speak when spoken to and you will be extremely respectful. Do you understand me?" Santana squirms underneath her mistress' intense stare.

"Yes, mistress, I understand," Santana nervously responds. Arizona studies her for a moment, making sure Santana is taking this as seriously as she wants her to.

"Alright," Arizona murmurs, seemingly satisfied, "good." Santana feels her nerves grow inside her, her gut and chest feeling like a pressure cooker. She wants so badly to please her mistress, but this is all still so new to her. She's scared that she will let Arizona down. "Hey," Arizona murmurs, easily reading the nerves on Santana's face, "I'll be right beside you the whole time. This is something that you need to do." Santana nods, unable to speak. Arizona allows the non verbal response...this time. The doors are thrown open and Santana watches as a stunning blonde strides into the reception area, her heels sounding like gunshots in the quiet room.

"Arizona," Cassandra smiles warmly, "still as beautiful as ever, I see." Cassandra hugs Arizona when she reaches her, kissing both of her cheeks.

"Cassandra," Arizona nods. "You're looking well." Santana notices that her mistress is merely being polite to the other woman, despite how happy Cassandra is to see Arizona. "This is Santana," Arizona gestures to Santana. "Santana, this is Ms July." Cassandra's smile slips from her face as she turns her piercing gaze towards Santana, her eyes sweeping up and down Santana's body. She smirks, and Santana can immediately tell that Cassandra likes what she sees.

"Very nice," Cassandra remarks. Cassandra turns her attention back to Arizona, "shall we?"

"Yes." Arizona's tone is clipped and business like, and it sends shivers down Santana's spine. Her mistress oozes power and confidence as she hooks her arm around Santana's waist, her hand drifting downwards to rest on Santana's ass as they follow Cassandra through the doors. She's letting everyone know that Santana is hers. Santana likes it.

"We just got a new shipment in this morning," Cassandra calls over her shoulder, "and your order arrived yesterday. I also have some products for Callie, do you want to take that with you?"

"Yeah, I'll write you a cheque before we leave," Arizona tells her. Santana's jaw drops as they are led into a large, private store. There's no mistaking why her mistress brought her here. Santana gazes around at all of the adult toys and lingerie, swallowing thickly. She's been in stores like this before, but none of them had been as...well stocked as this one. In fact, there's several items that she can't even work out how they are supposed to be used. She has a funny feeling her mistress knows, though. She is led through another doorway and she is reminded of the back room that movie rental stores sometimes have, and it makes her blush lightly. This part of the store is clearly the part that Arizona is interested in and Santana feels her stomach drop. She gazes around at all of the spanking implements and feels the muscles in her ass contract.

"What exactly are you looking for, 'Zona?" Cassandra asks, and Santana notices that her mistress scowls at the nickname. "I know you like each of your girls to have their own set, but I assumed that was included in Callie's order." Arizona nods,

"I just need a couple more things," Arizona states, "and I needed Santana to be with me. You know how I work, I don't buy anything unless I know it will make an impact on the person I'm buying it for," she explains. Cassandra smirks, glancing at Santana.

"Each ass is different," Cassandra nods. Santana frowns.

"Each _person_ is different," Arizona corrects her, as though subtly reassuring Santana that she doesn't just view her as a shiny new toy. Cassandra dips her head in silent apology, realising she crossed a line.

"Of course," Cassandra murmurs. Santana gazes between the two blonde women, intrigued by their dynamic. "My mouth sometimes works before my brain," Cassandra directs her statement at Santana. Santana realises the woman is apologising to her so she forces a polite smile.

"It must be where Sarah gets her attitude from," Arizona remarks, causing Santana to raise a brow and struggle to conceal her smirk. Cassandra sets her jaw, but she doesn't dispute Arizona's comment. The woman brings far too much business to her for her to even think about angering her.

"I will talk to Sarah," Cassandra evenly says. Santana notices Sarah lingering in the doorway, the girl paling considerably. Everyone in the room knows what Cassandra means by _talk._ "Something you need, Sarah?"

"Um..yeah uh," Sarah stutters, obviously thrown off by the revelation of her upcoming punishment. "You have an unscheduled customer, ma'am," she nervously states. Cassandra clicks her tongue and sighs,

"take their details and show them around," Cassandra orders. "Do not let them in this room," she adds. "This room is off limits for now." Sarah nods,

"yes, ma'am." Santana watches as Sarah all but runs from the doorway and, despite the slight dislike she has for the girl, she feels for her.

"Play or punishment?" Santana's gaze snaps back to Cassandra when she hears her question Arizona.

"Punishment," Arizona responds simply, her hand once again drifting down to Santana's ass. Cassandra moves to stand in front of Santana and she studies the younger woman. Santana can feel her face heating up and she begins to feel uncomfortable under Cassandra's steel gaze.

"You got yourself a pretty one, 'Zona," Cassandra murmurs with a smirk, once again using that annoying nickname. "Then again, you always do." Santana feels a surge of jealousy. She has always been aware of the other girls, and she had never felt jealous of them before. Until now. "Tiny little thing," Cassandra notes as she circles them. "She's got a great ass." Santana feels Arizona's hand grasp her ass a little tighter, her mistress clearly marking her territory in front of Cassandra. Santana lifts her eyes to look at Arizona and is surprised to find her staring down at her. Arizona winks at her and it makes her chest flutter.

"I actually need to test something that was in my wife's order," Arizona says, turning her attention to Cassandra. Cassandra nods and Santana watches as she disappears from the room. Santana's stomach knots as she realises what Arizona said. If her mistress is about to test something, then there's only one person she will test it on. "Come here," Arizona murmurs, pulling Santana over to the cash desk. "Bend over." Santana does is she is told and leans over the counter. Arizona pushes her further over so that she is standing on the tips of her toes, her ass in the air. "You will have your own set of punishment implements," Arizona begins, "and I will be testing them on you to ensure that they have the desired effect. If you move out of position or fight me on this, I will turn this into a real punishment. That would mean losing your jeans and panties, and I'm sure you don't want that."

"No, ma'am," Santana agrees, her breaths coming out in short, sharp bursts as her ass tingles with anticipation.

"Good girl," Arizona whispers, leaning across Santana's back to press a soft kiss to the back of her neck. Santana closes her eyes, feeling embarrassment smother her as she hears Cassandra step back into the room.

"You wasted no time, I see," she hears Cassandra remark. "Where did you find her?"

"Santana's from Ohio, but she was living in Los Angeles when we met," Arizona states in a clipped tone and Santana can tell that Arizona is beginning to find Cassandra tiresome. Santana listens carefully as her mistress and Cassandra unpack a box.

"Oh, that's nice," Cassandra states, "I didn't know you ordered one of those." Santana frowns, wishing she could just turn around and see what it is, but she knows she would be made to regret doing that. "Sarah deals with the orders now."

"A nice incentive to follow the rules, don't you think?" Santana hears her mistress say with a chuckle.

"Most definitely," Cassandra agrees. Santana jumps in surprise when her mistress appears in front of her, her dark eyes instantly landing on the paddle in Arizona's hands. It's large, much like an old sorority paddle, but with no holes drilled into it. Santana can see that her name has been extravagantly painted onto the light coloured wood, and she winces.

"This," Arizona begins, "is what I will use on your backside for serious offences," she states lowly and seriously. "I'm going to swat you with it now, but only once. You should remember what this feels like whenever you think of disobeying me." Arizona stares down into Santana's eyes, "if you accept my test swats without any disobedience, we will be out of here soon. Do you understand me?" Santana swallows, her mouth feeling dryer than a desert,

"yes, mistres," she breathes out, staring at the evil looking paddle that's about to strike her ass. Arizona nods before moving out of sight again. Santana's heart thuds as she waits for the swat. She can feel Cassandra's eyes on her and it makes her feel extremely self conscious. This is the first time that someone other than Callie has witnessed her submitting to Arizona.

"Stay in position," Arizona reminds her as she swings her arm back. The paddle lands on Santana's denim clad ass with a resounding crack, the pain registering with Santana a second later. She hisses, clenching her teeth as she squeezes her eyes closed. With just one swat, the paddle has brought tears to her eyes. Santana swears to herself that she won't ever earn a punishment with that paddle. The paddle is placed on the counter in front of Santana and she stares at it, tears still clouding her gaze. The lingering pain in her ass reminds her to stay in position.

"I like that," Arizona states to Cassandra, "it seems to make an impression on her. I want to test that smaller paddle and that crop, too."

"No canes?" Cassandra questions and Santana swears she can hear disappointment in the woman's voice.

"No. Not for Santana," Arizona says seriously. Santana smiles to herself, relieved that her mistress had listened to her opinion back when they first met. As much as Arizona is in charge, she won't ever use an implement that her submissives find to be cruel. She herself prefers not to use one anyway, but she knows her wife is sometimes partial to using one for serious rule breaks.

"That's lucky for Santana, I remember how well your wife can handle a cane," Cassandra says wistfully.

"Yes, I remember how much you screamed." Santana's eyes widen at Arizona's statement. Hearing that Callie had caned Cassandra gives her great pleasure as her first impressions of Cassandra are not great. She jerks slightly when she feels Arizona's hand on her lower back and she immediately braces herself. The first swat echoes around the room like a gunshot and Santana bites down on her lip to stop herself from crying out. The second lands right on the sensitive curve where ass meets thigh, and the third makes her yelp against her will. "Hmm, I like this one," Arizona murmurs as she gently rubs Santana's ass.

"Small, but effective," Cassandra says. "It's becoming one of our most popular."

"I'll take it," Arizona instructs the other woman, handing it to her. Arizona walks around to face in front of Santana again, bending down to make proper eye contact with her. "You doing okay, dearest?" she softly questions. She's well aware that this is a lot for Santana to take in.

"Yes, mistress," Santana whispers. Arizona smiles and uses her fingers to brush Santana's hair from her eyes. She leans forward and kisses the tip of her nose, causing Santana to smile at her.

"You're doing very well," Arizona praises. "Just a few more, okay?"

"Yes, mistress." Santana frowns when her mistress leaves her side, immediately missing her presence. She's never felt more vulnerable in her life, and she knows that there will be moments in the future. _We strip them down. Then, we build them back up. _Her mistress' words from this morning echoes in her mind and Santana realises that this is just the beginning. She hears her mistress approach again and feels something tap against her already tender ass. The crop. It whips across her backside and she grits her teeth as a fiery line blazes across her bottom. Arizona had taken a crop to her ass before, but it feels different this time. It feels more mentally intense. Tears make their way back into her eyes and she does her best to blink them away. The crop kisses her ass for a second time and Santana's whole body jerks, a soft whimper leaving her throat. Her chest tightens as she fights back a sob. This whole experience is overwhelming and she knows her mistress means for it to be.

"She takes it well," Santana vaguely hears Cassandra say.

"Hmm, I don't like this one," Arizona murmurs. "It's too heavy." Santana hears Cassandra scoff,

"it's for punishment," Cassandra incredulously states and Arizona clicks her tongue.

"It's too heavy," she repeats herself. "I must take Santana's size into account." Santana's head swims, she hadn't realised that being petite would come into it. Santana feels a light tap to her ass and she squeezes her eyes closed, anticipating the next blow. The first strike from the new crop causes her to cry out and she bucks against the counter. It's lighter and there's more of a sting, like a thousand synchronised bee stings. It lands a second time and unwanted tears leak from Santana's eyes. The third brings a breakdown. Santana sobs, her entire body shaking. She's not even sure why she is crying, her ass had taken much more in the past. "Leave us," Arizona firmly states to Cassandra.

"Of course." Arizona waits until Cassandra is gone from the room before she gathers Santana into her strong arms. Santana buries her face into the crook of Arizona's neck, struggling to get her words out,

"I'm sorry, mistress," she splutters.

"Why are you sorry, dearest?" Arizona's words are soft.

"I didn't take it well. I'll do better, mistress." Arizona pulls back slightly and places her forefinger underneath Santana's chin, coaxing her to meet her gaze.

"You did extremely well," Arizona promises her. "This wasn't about pain." Santana gazes at her mistress with wet eyes and she finally gets it. Her mistress had wanted this. She had hoped for some kind of breakdown...a sign that Santana would allow herself to fully let go whilst with her. "You did very well, dearest," Arizona murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Santana's temple. She gazes into Santana's dark eyes and smiles softly, "I think we're done here."

0-00-0

Santana can feel several pairs of eyes on her as she is led into the restaurant. She knows they are looking at her red eyes and the hand that is firmly against her ass, and knows that they will be putting two and two together. She flushes, unable to meet anyone's gaze. Santana is surprised when she feels Arizona lift her hand and settle it against her back instead, but she feels comforted by the touch. She feels drained, both physically and emotionally, but her day isn't even close to being over. She still has to join Brittany in the room tonight and allow herself to become a different version of herself.

"Ah, Ms Robbins! So good to see you!" The maître-de beams with his thick accent. Santana is impressed, he actually comes across as genuine. "The rest of your party is already here, I will show you to them."

"Merci," Arizona nods. Santana hadn't realised anyone would be joining them for dinner and she wonders if this is going to end up as more than dinner. Callie is the first one that Santana sees and she smiles. This is just dinner. The others look pleased to see her and Santana flushes. These people seem to genuinely care, and Santana isn't used to that. She is seated between Arizona and Rachel and she is grateful for the one armed hug that Rachel gives her. It makes her feel wanted. Santana watches as Arizona kisses Callie in greeting and she isn't surprised when Callie turns her gaze onto her.

"How are you feeling?" Callie questions and Santana is mildly surprised at the softness in her tone.

"I'm okay, ma'am," Santana politely responds. Callie studies her, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Santana feels self conscious. She's convinced that she must look crap.

"She did extraordinarily well," Arizona states with pride and Santana smiles shyly.

"I'd expect no less," Callie remarks. She then smiles, "how about some wine?" she asks, "to take the edge off." Santana is temped, but she shakes her head,

"no thank you, ma'am," Santana says softly. "I'd like to have a clear head for this evening." Callie looks impressed and she shares a gaze with Arizona. Santana glances over at Brittany and she isn't at all surprised to find those blue eyes looking back at her. Brittany looks intrigued and she offers Santana a reassuring smile. Santana returns the smile. As much as Brittany had been blowing hot and cold since she met her, Santana knows Brittany is offering her some comfort and reassurance, and she appreciates it. Very much so.

"Here," Brittany murmurs, reaching across the table to hand Santana a menu. "You'll need your stength for this evening." Santana muses to herself that she should probably feel intimidated by Brittany's statement, but there's something about the way she says it that makes her feel relaxed.

"Thanks," Santana replies, much more quietly than she means to. She looks down at the menu and her eyes almost drop from her head. Before meeting Arizona, Santana would never have been able to afford to eat at a place like this. Not without sacrificing her rent, anyway. Everything looks so expensive and Santana doesn't know what to choose. The steak that she's eyeing up costs far more than she is comfortable asking her mistress to pay for.

"Choose whatever you like," Arizona interrupts her thoughts, easily reading Santana's concerns on her features. "I told you that you would be taken care of, and I meant it." Santana smiles softly and ducks her head. Quinn notices that Santana still looks unsure so she cranes her head to see what Santana is looking at,

"I think I'm going to get the steak, ma'am," Quinn tells Callie, noticing the look of pride in the woman's dark eyes.

"Of course," Callie nods, a smile in her eyes. "Santana?"

"Um, the steak please, ma'am," Santana murmurs, handing Callie the menu when she holds her hand out for it. She feels Arizona's hand on her knee, her mistress gently squeezing. It's a physical reminder that she's okay under their care. When the waiter approaches their table, Callie is the only one to speak to him and Santana stares in awe as she listens to her perfect French. Her eyebrows raise and she can't deny that it's kind of hot. Though, Callie is just hot anyway.

"Do you need a napkin for your drool?" Rachel whispers into Santana's ear, her brown eyes twinkling with amusement. Santana flushes lightly at getting caught, but she smiles when she meets Rachel's gaze. She likes Rachel, she seems sweet. Arizona notices Santana's embarrassment and Rachel's smirk, and she watches them curiously. She thinks that Rachel and Santana will be good for each other. Arizona shifts her hand, stopping just inches away from Santana's crotch. She feels Santana tense up underneath her touch, but she doesn't do anything. She's reminding Santana that she's there, but she doesn't interrupt her interactions with Rachel. It's important for Santana to build relationships with the other girls.

"So jealous," Arizona hears Callie murmur into her ear and she smirks.

"I have beautiful women all around me," Arizona retorts, "is it so wrong for me to enjoy it?" Her blue eyes twinkle as she gazes at her wife.

"Not at all," Callie smiles tenderly. Arizona may, out of the two of them, be in charge, but Callie still feels like an equal. She may be taken in hand when she does something that Arizona doesn't approve of and Arizona may be in charge in the bedroom, but Callie is still her wife...her partner.

"Ms Robbins?" They both turn when they hear Brittany's voice, "now?" Brittany questions vaguely. Arizona smiles softly,

"yes. Santana, a moment?" Arizona states. She makes it sound like a request, but it's not.

"Yes, ma'am," Santana replies softly. She's confused, but she knows not to question her mistress. She frowns in confusion when it's not only Arizona that stands, but Callie and Brittany as well.

"Excuse us a moment," Callie says to Rachel and Quinn, and Santana notices the two young women exchange a knowing look.

"Of course, ma'am," Quinn states, Rachel nodding her agreement. Santana rises from her seat and gazes uncertainly at her mistress, waiting for some kind of instruction. She's surprised when the instruction comes from Brittany,

"follow me," Brittany murmurs, taking a hold of Santana's hand. Santana sends Arizona a slightly panicked glance, but Arizona merely gestures for her to go with Brittany. Santana can feel Arizona and Callie watching her as she is led towards the bathroom and she hears Callie speak to one of the waiters. A glance behind over her shoulder confirms what she is thinking, Callie is bribing the waiter. Brittany gently pulls her into the overly decorated bathroom and Santana hears the door being locked behind them. "Relax," Brittany states kindly. "Trust me."

"Okay," Santana shyly nods, her eyes locking onto her mistress as she and Callie lean against the marble counter the holds the sinks.

"Brittany is going to help you change," Arizona states simply. "She is the one that will be helping you and taking care of you tonight, so it's her place to help you now. Aunt Brittany will help you get ready for mama." Santana blushes furiously and she stares nervously at Arizona, feeling completely caught off guard. "I know you thought it would begin this evening, and it will, but we're trying to ease you into it a little more," Arizona explains. "Ms Torres and I are merely here to supervise, and I promise you that you are in very good hands with Brittany," Arizona states sincerely. "From now on, she's aunt Brittany until you are told otherwise. We will work out code words or signals later down the line. For now, it's about learning and becoming comfortable. Okay?"

"Yes, mistress," Santana whispers, feeling incredibly self conscious and nervous. Her stomach feels like it is housing several butterflies and her mouth is uncomfortably dry. Arizona studies Santana for a moment before turning her attention to Brittany and nodding once.

"You are safe with me, Santana," Brittany states, her voice soft and reassuring. "I'm just going to help you change some of your clothes. I'm going to take a little responsibility from you, too," she explains gently. "Just think about what you would need to do as a young child. You had to ask your parents for permission for even the smallest things, and they would help you do things that you can do easily as an adult. Try and let go a little bit, let me look after you," Brittany says kindly. Santana watches her warily for a moment before nodding,

"okay," she softly says. Her voice shakes and her stomach is twisting itself into knots.

"The other diners won't be able to tell," Brittany reassures her. Santana nods, the lump in her throat restricting her from talking. She watches as Brittany takes a bag from Callie, a bag that Santana hadn't even noticed she was carrying, and unzips it. Brittany reaches into the bag and pulls out some clothes. Brittany closes the lid on the nearest toilet, "have a seat, little one," she says gently. Santana blanches, flushing pink at being referred to in such a way. She knows that's something she'll need to get used to.

"Keep calm, Santana," she hears Callie say to her. "Just breathe, we're all here to look after you," Callie adds.

"Yes, Ms Torres," Santana acknowledges her. It surprising, yet comforting, that it was Callie to offer reassurance instead of Arizona.

"Alright," Brittany begins, "we're going to take this slowly," she smiles. Brittany kneels down in front of Santana as she sits on the lid of the toilet, her eyes kind and reassuring. Brittany easily notices the question in Santana's dark eyes, "you can ask," Brittany tells her. "It's important for you to ask me anything that you need to. This is new and confusing, I know." Santana swallows thickly, gazing at the walls of the cubicle instead of at Brittany,

"do I need to wear a diaper?" she asks shyly, ducking her head. Brittany chuckles softly,

"no. You're not going to be young enough for that. Little Santana will still require a grown-up's assistance when she uses the bathroom, though," Brittany explains gently. "You'll be treated as though you're four years old," she continues. "Young enough to completely let go of all responsibility, but old enough for your little self to be able to communicate properly. Nobody wants to drag you out of your younger mind set just to ask what you're trying to say," she adds with a grin, lightening the mood.

"My younger mind set?" Santana quietly questions, finally lifting her gaze and nervously staring at Brittany.

"Eventually, you'll be comfortable enough to fully dive into your little persona," Brittany states, "and once you are, you'll fully let go and they'll be a little part of your mind that believes you are little Santana, and will enjoy it. It takes time to completely allow yourself to become little Santana but, once you do, it would be uncomfortable for you if you were forced out of that mind set at a random moment," she explains. "Luckily for you, you have aunt Brittany to help you prepare and work towards that," she grins.

"It'll get easier?" Santana whispers. Brittany sighs softly and places one hand on Santana's cheek.

"I promise." "Now, let's get this hoodie off of you," Brittany murmurs. Santana goes to pull it over her head, but Brittany gently grabs her hands; stopping her. "That's aunt Brittany's job," she states calmly. "Remember, even the simplest of things are no longer your responsibility." Santana nods. "Good girl," Brittany praises her. "Arms up." Santana frowns and lifts her arms as Brittany rises to her feet. She allows the blonde to pull her hooded sweatshirt off and watches as Brittany hangs it over the open door of the stall. Brittany then lightly taps Santana's arm, signalling for her to lift her arms again. Santana lets out a low whimper as her tank top is pulled over her head, feeling exposed as her bra is revealed.

"Don't," Santana whispers pleadingly, blocking Brittany's hands when the blonde attempts to remove her bra.

"Hey, hey," Brittany gently chastises. "It's coming off, okay? I'm sure you don't want aunt Callie to have to come over here to help me, do you?" Tears flood in Santana's eyes as she silently stares at Brittany. "Aunt Callie can be a big meanie when she wants to be," Brittany states, speaking to Santana in the same tone of voice she would reserve for a small child, "and she'll just end up spanking your butt." Santana looks away from Brittany, frowning deeply. Her chest feels tight and she's struggling to let go of the little control she has left. Santana breathes deeply and lifts her eyes to gaze across at Arizona and Callie, her eyes wide.

"Relax, little one," Callie states softly. Arizona stays silent, but her eyes say more than her mouth ever could. Santana can only see love and reassurance in those ice blue eyes and it offers her a great deal of reassurance. Santana sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and sighs through her nose, moving her hands out of Brittany's way.

"Good girl," Brittany smiles. She slowly reaches around Santana and unclasps the black bra, smiling softly at Santana as she slides the bra off of her arms. "You're doing really well," Brittany promises her. "We'll have you all ready for your mama in no time, but tonight it'll just be me and you. Try your hardest, that's all we can ask of you," Brittany adds. Santana nods. She doesn't completely understand Brittany's position in her mistress' home, nor does she understand why Brittany is the one helping her, but she doesn't fight it. She trusts her mistress, and her mistress obviously trusts Brittany. By default, Santana does too. "Are you okay, little one?" Brittany kindly questions.

"Yeah, kinda," Santana mumbles. She feels a little better now that she knows nobody is leering at her naked breasts, this isn't about sex at all. She watches as Brittany picks up a plain, white vest.

"Little girls don't wear bras," Brittany explains. "Arms up again, little one," she instructs. Santana chews on the inside of her cheek as she does what she is told. Brittany helps Santana into the vest and smiles brightly at her as she grabs a pink t'shirt, not missing Santana's scowl when the young woman notices the pony on the front. "Little Santana's clothes will change to fit her personality once we have a chance to see what you likes," Brittany promises. Santana nods, still eyeing the t'shirt.

"Do I..."

"Yes," Brittany cuts her off, "you have to wear it, but we're gonna put your sweatshirt back on, okay? Like I said, we're easing you into it, sweetie," Brittany kindly explains. Santana nods and stays still as Brittany eases the t'shirt over her head and gently pushes her arms into the sleeves. "So cute!" Brittany coos. "What do you think?" Brittany glances back at Arizona and Callie.

"Adorable," Arizona states simply, smiling warmly at Brittany. She's impressed with how Brittany is handling this. Brittany smiles at Santana as she helps her back into her hoodie.

"Alright, little one," Brittany says, "we're almost done." Santana pales as Brittany holds up a pair of colourful panties, scowling at the Hello Kitty logo on them. "Stand up for aunt Brittany," Brittany instructs. Santana hesitates and stares across at her mistress.

"Do as aunt Brittany tells you." Again, it is Callie that speaks instead of Arizona. Santana sighs and rises to her feet, stepping out of her converse when Brittany urges her to. Santana forces herself to keep her breathing steady when Brittany's fingers fumble with the button and zip on her jeans.

"You're okay, little one. Your jeans will be going back on." Santana realises that these women have no intention of showing off little Santana to the public. Only she and the women in the room will be aware of the changes...they want to make her _feel_ younger, not _show_ that she's younger. Santana blushes when Brittany pulls her jeans down and she refuses to make eye contact with the blonde. She's been naked in front of Arizona and Callie before, but she only met Brittany yesterday. Santana steps out of her jeans, but she pulls away from Brittany when she feels fingers hook into her panties.

"No," she whimpers. Santana watches as Arizona immediately steps forward, the woman motioning for Brittany to step away.

"Aunt Brittany is the one who will be taking care of you tonight," Arizona states simply. "I promise you that you can trust her, little one," Arizona murmurs. "Mama expects her little girl to behave for aunt Brittany." Santana stares into Arizona's steel blue eyes and she feels a sudden rush of reassurance. "Aunt Brittany has seen it all before, she just wants to change your panties and then put your jeans back on. Let go, little one," Arizona gently urges.

"Can't you do it?" Santana asks, and she hates how whiny she sounds.

"No, little one," Arizona shakes her head. "Aunt Brittany is taking care of you today." Santana sighs and bows her head, "are you going to be a good girl?" Santana blushes, but nods her head. "Good, 'cause mama will be upset if she finds out her little girl hasn't been trying her best." Arizona gives Santana a pointed look before moving back to stand beside her wife. Brittany steps forward,

"alright, little one," she murmurs. "Time to change out of your big girl panties."

_**To be continued... This was going to be a little longer, but I'm happy with the ending for this chapter. Besides, my friend needed a little distraction today.**_


End file.
